I'm walkin' you to the med bay
by EquusGirl
Summary: Leia slips on a patch of ice and naturally, she's very Leia about it. Pre-ESB, Hoth era. Part two of the the '100 Ways' series for #44 "I'll drive you to the hospital". T for some swearing.


Leia was vaguely aware of Han's swearing over the sound of his hurried footfalls. Wait, did he just use her name? Her _real_ name. She winced as she touched the spot on her skull she'd just smacked against something. "Fuck this planet," she muttered as his boots stopped next to her and she examined her gloved hand. No blood. That was a good thing. Right?

Han's face came into focus and his lips twitched into a smile. "Well, that's certainly one way t'get a guy's attention." She blinked up at him. His words were meant to be teasing and there was a smile on his face but there was something...off in his features. They were too tight, his tone strained. What was that?

"I'm mad at you," she said, suddenly remembering what she'd been doing as she'd slipped on a patch of ice. Indignant anger had burned through her veins as she'd shouted at him across the frigid hangar, servicemen scurrying out of her way as she'd stormed toward the smuggler. Not her best moment admittedly but he'd warranted it.

"Gotta real peculiar way of showin' it," he said, reaching down to push back a stray wisp of hair from her face. She grunted and smacked his hand away as she tried to push herself up into a sitting position. Her surroundings swam and her stomach protested, her ration bar threatening to make a reappearance.

"Easy, easy!" His arm snaked around her waist and there was that strange note in his voice again. She struggled to place it, the world around her feeling as though it was mired in a dense fog. "Lemme look at you," he murmured, his fingers tugging gently at her chin as he intently stared into her eyes. How could his touch be that warm? It ought to be impossible on this frozen rock.

"Really, Captain, you ought to at least buy me dinner first." The words were out of her mouth before she even knew what she was saying though she was struggling to remember why she ought to care. Everything had just started to feel far too intimate for the middle of a hangar.

Han barked out a laugh and shook his head slightly as his lips pulled up in that infuriating lopsided grin. "Sure thing, Your Worship. Even do you one better and fix y'dinner; soon as y'get discharged from medical." Well, that was a little more like him but — wait.

"_What_?" Her voice was sharp, even to her own ears. She didn't need to go to medical. Not for this. She'd just slipped. Everyone was always slipping on this Sith forsaken planet.

"You heard me. Can y'stand?" Han blurred as he stood up, another wave of nausea sweeping over her as he shoved his hands in front of her face.

"I'm fine," she muttered darkly, pushing his outstretched hands away. Medical had nothing to offer her and she certainly didn't need his help. The hangar bay tilted sharply as she clambered up to her feet, the icy ground looming in front of her.

His arms went around her waist, catching her and pulling her against his chest as he sighed heavily. "Wanna rethink that statement?" How could he have the _nerve_ to sound so put upon? He was the one making such a fuss over nothing.

His features took a moment longer to come into focus than they ought to as she opened her mouth to snarl something. But his expression brought her up short as she struggled to grasp whatever emotion he was failing to hide. Its' identity floated just outside the outer edges of her mind, elusive and infuriating. _Something in his eyes._

"Y'alright?" His voice was low and the sound rumbled through his chest to hers as his arms tightened around her, holding her impossibly close. _Oh._ That was nice. And from here she could pick out every bit of gold in his irises; glittering with—_something_. No sentient had the right to feel this good— be this warm— be so damned attractive.

"I'm _fine_," she snapped. He rolled his eyes in a way that made her head spin but he let her go, holding his hands up. The icy air swirled around her, a shiver racing down her spine in the absence of his warmth. She turned on her heel and wobbled. Instinctively, she reached out to steady herself at the same time his hand went around her upper arm.

**"C'mon, Sweetheart; I'm walkin' you to the med bay."**

"I'm not your sweetheart," she muttered, cursing him under her breath.


End file.
